


Oh Captain, My Captain

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, M/M, Protective!Iwa-chan, Seijou Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3550424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Iwa-chan?”</i><br/>“What now?”<br/>“Have you ever, you know, stuck up for me when I wasn’t around?”<br/>“Don’t be a dumbass.”
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Second years Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime sit outside of the coach’s office, waiting to be called in one by one. The fact that they are separated makes Hajime uneasy. What has to be said that can’t be said in front of both of them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Captain, My Captain

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Seijou Week on Tumblr — Day 3: Second Years.
> 
> I am not sure if the prompt called for stories involving current second years (Yahaba, Kyoutani, Watari), but I honestly didn't have anything to say about them (bad fangirl) that I could put together in under 5k words. So, I dusted off this plot bunny I've had for a while about Oikawa and Iwaizumi as second years. I hope it still counts!

There is a fine sheen of sweat clinging to Tooru’s brow. Satisfaction blooms in Hajime’s chest, knowing that he had put it there. With a lazy sigh, he tugs Tooru further into his side, their bodies fitting perfectly despite Hajime’s smaller stature.

Hajime isn’t the romantic type. He’ll make Tooru pay for his own lunch or do his own damn laundry. He doesn’t do flowers or candy, even though he knows Tooru loves both. But that doesn’t mean that, in the small hours of the morning after an intense night of energetic sex, he can’t think to himself that they are made for one another.

The thought brings a small smile to his lips — one Tooru thankfully can’t see. If his lover/boyfriend/pain-in-the-ass ever knew that everything he does drives Hajime insane in the best possible ways, he would Never. Shut. Up.

Tooru hums contentedly into Hajime’s shoulder, sending a ripple of pleasure in its wake. If he weren’t so exhausted, he might even reciprocate. But for now, he enjoys Tooru’s comfortable weight against him.

“Iwa-chan?”

Hajime starts, not expecting Tooru to be awake. “What?” he replies with some manufactured annoyance.

“You love me, right?”

The question hangs in the air, and Hajime knows he has to answer it. Of course, he does. Once he realized it after the crippling loss to Karasuno at the Spring High, he can’t even realistically say that it might not have always been the case.

But how do you say that you’ve loved someone forever without sounding like a complete jackass? Well, you can’t.

“Don’t be a dumbass.”

He can feel Tooru smile into his shoulder, knowing that he got his point across. Maybe with that out of the way, they can both finally go the fuck to sleep.

Or not.

“Iwa-chan?”

“What now?” Hajime growls, his annoyance a little more genuine this time.

“You always yell at me like a big bully when I say bad things about myself or work too hard. Have you ever, you know, stuck up for me when I wasn’t around?”

The question hits Hajime like a punch in the face. There is something he has buttoned up, bottled up, for almost five years now. Something he never intended Tooru to know. Not because he doesn’t want to be romantic, but because Hajime is afraid that it might undo all the work they’ve done to give Tooru his own sense of self-worth.

Maybe one day, Tooru will be ready to hear it. But not today.

Instead, he quips with, “Macky, first year. He made fun of you for shaving your legs. I told him not to knock it ‘til he tried it.”

Tooru gasps. “You mean _that’s_ why he does it, too?”

“Yep.”

“Iwa-chan! You know that isn’t what I meant.”

Hajime doesn’t have to see Tooru’s face to know he’s pouting. This was far preferable to answering the question in earnest. “Then don’t ask stupid questions,” Hajime says finally as he changes the subject with feathery kiss to the slope of Tooru’s neck.

 

* * *

 

Tooru was fidgeting, much to Hajime’s irritation. _Tap tap tap tap tap tap_ , an anxious heel buffeted the floor and what was left of Hajime’s nerves. He momentarily considered elbowing Tooru but abstained, marking their close proximity to Irihata-sensai’s office, where their advisor and coach, Mizoguchi-san, were currently holed up.

But neither of them were stupid; they knew what the coaching staff needed to discuss with them. It was why Tooru was nervous and irritatingly quiet. However, Hajime didn’t know if Tooru had the same trepidation about the meeting — namely, the conditions of it:

They were not going in together.

Hajime and Tooru hadn’t done anything separately for as long as either could remember. They’d had enough trouble coping with Hajime being placed in Class 5 and Tooru in Class 4, but their studies had been close enough together that they still came together almost nightly after practice to do their homework.

Volleyball was different, though. They had always been on the same team: Hajime standing by Tooru as an equal on the court, no matter what the number was on either jersey. Hajime kept Tooru’s head in the game, and Tooru always turned to Hajime when it mattered the most. And maybe it wasn’t just volleyball; they were like that every minute of the day. Whether it was Ushijima or monsters under the bed, Hajime slayed Tooru’s demons and the latter would lean on him like he was the tallest tree in the forest.

“Iwaizumi.” Hajime heard Mizoguchi’s voice and started.

He was going in first, and he had a pretty good idea why. Hajime wouldn’t trust Tooru to be quiet coming out of a meeting in which he was being named captain, either. The loud, cocky setter would no doubt dance out of the office and make a beeline to the equipment room to claim his new jersey. However, Hajime would not have cared, as he never once thought he would be considered for the captaincy when Tooru was available.

Irihata gestured to a chair opposite his desk, while Mizoguchi leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Hajime settled down into the chair with none of the fidgeting the boy outside had been displaying. Sitting up straight, he waited to be addressed.

“Iwaizumi-kun, do you know why you’re here?” Irihata asked, his voice as calm as ever.

Hajime gave a brief nod. “I assume you’re addressing all the second-years individually about who is and isn’t getting the captaincy. I just wanted to say that it really isn’t necessary; I know I’m not the captain. I’m just here to play volleyball.”

Irihata and Mizoguchi exchanged a look that gave Hajime the sinking feeling that he had grossly misjudged the purpose of this meeting. Had he done something wrong? Said something inappropriate? The urge to fidget didn’t seem so bothersome anymore.

“That is the matter being discussed, yes,” Mizoguchi offered after a solid minute of tense silence. “All of the graduating third years and the coaching staff discussed the matter at length, and a consensus was reached.

“Once the third years retire, Iwaizumi-kun, the captain of the volleyball club will be you.”

At once, Hajime’s heart stuttered to a stop as he considered the boy sitting outside, probably expecting to be told that he was going to be leading Seijou to titles and glory for the first time in over a decade. It fit Tooru’s personality perfectly, and after two years of lackluster captaincy, Hajime thought the team could use a little bit of the Oikawa flamboyance.

“No,” Hajime said immediately, crossing his arms in the way he did when dealing with a certain idiot setter. “I’m not a captain, and I’m not the one who is going to lead this team to nationals.”

Both instructors started at Hajime’s outspokenness. Except when with Tooru, he was, almost without fail, a model student and team member. In fact, Hajime couldn’t ever remember saying no to a coach.

But in this, he could not, would not budge. If Aoba Jousai was going to amount to anything, Oikawa would be the one to do it. Not Hajime. Not Hanamaki. Not Matsukawa.

He noticed Mizoguchi and Irihata whispering, the former’s arms gesturing hotly as he tried to argue some sort of point. Hajime considered trying to overhear what they were saying, but he instead chose to ignore the fact that they were probably talking about him while he was sitting in the room and silently thanked whatever deities were listening that this meeting had been private and not with both of them.

It only took a few seconds of imagination to envision how Tooru would react to Hajime being named captain over him, and Hajime did not like any of it. Long, grueling practices. More pain medication. Tighter knee braces. Shorter tempers. How long would it be before Tooru tried to backhand another freshman?

“No,” Hajime reiterated, even if he had not meant to do so aloud.

Both coaches stopped talking and looked at him. Irihata raised a brow and asked, “Is there a specific reason why you would refuse an honor such as this, Iwaizumi-kun?”

Arms still crossed, Hajime sat up as straight as he could and said, “Oikawa’s the captain and has been for a while.” Hajime ignored the heavy sigh from Mizoguchi. “He works harder than any of us and has more game sense than half of this team combined. He may be a first class idiot, but Oikawa is practically a genius when it comes to getting players to perform. That’s what captains do, and that’s why Oikawa’s the captain.”

Irihata sighed heavily. “We considered that, but in the end, it’s always you who keeps Oikawa at his best. He is flighty and creates more chaos than he relieves.”

_Don’t you think I already know that?_ Hajime wants to shout. However, he knew his point could only be made if he put forth a level argument — no matter how stupid he thought it was that he had to argue it at all. “Who do you think keeps me at _my_ best?” he fired back. “Yes, he needs to be pushed in the right direction here and there; who doesn’t? But this isn’t about whether I keep him from skipping calculus class to practice serving in the gym. If anything, it proves what I’m trying to say.

“When it comes to volleyball, he’s always led and I’ve followed. Even when he acts like a spoiled, prideful child, he has led the way since he could pick up a ball and set it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Even to his own ears, it sounded like a terrible argument. He made it sound as if Tooru needed a babysitter to perform. How was he supposed to quantify, to qualify everything that Tooru brought to whatever team he was on? Tooru’s magnetic personality attracted attention to everything he did, and he worked his ass off in order to do everything extremely well. Hard work and determination were some of his quieter qualities, but what he did that was the most spectacular was bring those qualities out in others.

With a sigh of resolution that he was likely not explaining himself well, Hajime hung his head in a weary bow and said, “I know it’s not my decision to make, but I came to this school because I want to win. Oikawa’s the one who can make it happen, and I don’t want anyone for a minute to think that I am half the player you assume I am without him.”

Having little else to say, Hajime slumped out of the room back onto the bench outside the office, where Tooru still waited his turn to speak to the coaches.

“So, what was your meeting about, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime forced himself to shrug noncommittally, but he doubted Tooru was buying it. “Oh, just telling me my jersey number and that I’m being considered for who they’ll call the next ace.” He knew the latter was true beforehand, and the former was not entirely a lie.

Tooru looked ready to argue, but Irihata popped out of the office and summoned the other boy inside before Hajime could formulate a better falsehood.

Panic surged in his belly as he envisioned Tooru’s dreams imploding around him, a plastic smile belying his inner turmoil. It had been the same with Ushijima and then Kageyama, and Hajime could not quell the fear that his best friend in the entire world, the person who knew him better than anyone, might come to hate him as he did his biggest rivals.

Panting to keep the urge to puke at bay, Hajime gripped the edge of the bench until the door finally opened.

Tooru practically skipped out of the office and catapulted into Hajime’s arms. “I’m captain and you’re my vice! Think about what we could _do_ , Iwa-chan.”

This smile of Tooru’s was one of the rare ones — one that put the sun to shame because it burned hot with pure joy. It was the greatest pleasure of Hajime’s day to wrap his arms around Tooru and murmur, “Congratulations, captain.”

 

* * *

 

As if he can sense Hajime’s unease, Tooru tightens his grip on his boyfriend and gently raises a brow.

“You aren’t thinking about the time the coaches tried to make you captain and you refused because of me, are you?”

Hajime starts so sharply that he would fall out of bed if not for Tooru’s grip on him. “Wh-what?” he stammers. “How did you know about that?”

That draws a slightly mocking chuckle from Tooru. “Because they told me, silly Iwa-chan. That, and you are very loud when you’re defending your number one setter’s honor.”

Rubbing his face as if to verify that this is really happening to him right now, Hajime shakes his head. Of course Tooru knows about this. There is next to nothing that he does not know about Hajime, and with this albatross of a secret being out in the open, next to nothing drops down to virtually zero.

Tooru playfully punches him in the arm. “I think it’s cute, Iwa-chan. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

Hajime snorts. “Wouldn’t that make you the damsel in distress?”

With a flounce of his hair, Tooru purses his lips and says, “I think I’d look good in a skirt.”

Though he wants to retort, Hajime cannot for the life of him negate that statement when the fruits of his imagination produce such pleasing results.

Instead, he settles on a classic token response. “You really are the worst.”

Beaming, Tooru burrows underneath Hajime’s arm and asks, “And, by worst, you really mean the best, right?”

There is no hesitation when Hajime sighs, “Yeah.”


End file.
